Warriors of the Clans
by Ghaskan
Summary: A compilation of the (hi)stories of my Warriors RP characters. Written between 2011 and 2012.
1. Duskwatcher of the Riverclan

Fourteen moons ago, during leaf-bare, a RiverClan queen gave birth to a litter of three kits. One of them was a small she-cat, dark like the dusk and with eyes resembling a warm greenleaf sunset. The queen made her mind in an instant and named her daughter Duskkit.

Leaf-bare was never easy for the Clans, and soon enough both of Duskkit's littermates died. The queen grieved for them, but did not give up on the last one of her litter. Perhaps by irony of the destiny or simply because of her smaller size which made her require less food, Duskkit survived.

The dark gray tabby was not the most outgoing kit of the bunch, but she enjoyed hearing the elders' tales and playing with her fellow kits. Duskkit had her good share of adventures as soon as she was fit to run and bounce, which always left her clanmates angry for some reason she could not understand.

In the peak of greenleaf, Duskkit was made an apprentice and was named Duskpaw. She was mentored by a youg and large ginger tom, who praised her quietness and cleverness. No matter how proud the mentor was of his apprentice, they got in arguments often due to Duskpaw's scalding temper. Despite their misunderstandings, Duskpaw was mentored well, and after catching her first fish, too scrawny for her mentor's tastes, she trained hard to perfect her fishing skills. Before long Duskpaw caught more and better fishes than her mentor. The she-cat was a great fisher and a fine ground prey hunter, but she left much to desire as a fighter. The ginger tom had a hard time trying to hone his small apprentice's skills, for she did not have the raw strength that he did, making their fighting styles very distinct. However, with much effort and tryout, Duskpaw, with the help of her mentor, invented and improved a fighting style based on timing and strategy, which helped the small apprentice beat much larger opponents.

When she was ten moons old, Duskpaw was appointed for an assessment by her mentor. Pride seemed to swell his ginger tom's chest when Duskpaw passed her final task as an apprentice. That same day she had her warrior ceremony and received her warrior name, Duskwatcher, due to her constant analysis and observation of her surroundings.

The vigil was during a long, somewhat cold leaf-fall night. Duskwatcher passed it reflecting on her life, from her birth along with the littermates she never got to know properly, passing by her adventures as a kit and challenges as an apprentice. Duskwatcher was unsure if she would make a great warrior, but the cold breeze seemed to sweep those doubts away. She would make her best to honour her dead littermates and to make her mentor proud. Their sacrifices and efforts would not be in vain.

As a lazy sun rise above the horizon, Duskwatcher made a vow with herself and StarClan. No matter if she was the greatest or the worst, she would always try her best.


	2. Life Tidbit of Duskwatcher: Fight

The river ran fast and hissed furiously when a dark feline approached the bank. The feline was a small, dark gray tabby she-cat with a faint white muzzle, padding softly over the rough boulders. The cat sat down gently, admiring with mild interest the many trees and bushes around the boulders. Suddenly, a rustling noise was heard, but the dark tabby did nothing, looking instead rather relaxed. Without further ado, the bushes exploded as another cat jumped from the bushes.

The she-cat was pinned down by a large ginger tom, his fur bristled and his lips drawn back in a fierce snarl. The she-cat hissed and unsheathed her own sharp claws, launching a flurry of scratches aimed at her opponent's belly.

To avoid the fatal rakes, the tom bounced from over the she-cat, who rose up as soon as possible, letting her fur bristle and reveling her teeth in turn.

With a powerful leap, the dark tabby pounced on the other cat, holding herself on his back with unsheathed claws. The tom dropped to the ground and rolled, attempting to crush the she-cat on the ground, but she was quicker and was already standing unharmed when he got up, his effort wasted.

They traded another round of hisses and snarls, each waiting for the other to make the next move.

The ginger tom moved first, sheathing his claws as he aimed to bring down his paw on the dark tabby's head, but yet again she was already out of range, jumping above him.

That time, however, the tom was ready and caught her leg while she was in midair with his teeth, pulling down her to the ground. The she-cat fell heavily and in a heartbeat the ginger tom was already pinning her again sooner than she could recover. After a while, he felt her limp under his paws. He relaxed, but did not yet release the she-cat.

The tom yowled in pain as he felt his shoulders being raked. Warm blood poured, and only too late did he realize the tabby she-cat had used them to gain impulse in order to escape from underneath him.

A heartbeat later the dark tabby had already climbed on his back once more. Before he could try to throw himself at the ground, the ginger tom felt teeth fasted around his scuff. It was too risky to act. He accepted his defeat and felt teeth sink, aiming for a most likely fatal blow.

"Enough, Duskwatcher, you win!" the ginger tom mewed, "You don't have to kill me, you know?"

Lashing her tail teasingly, Duskwatcher released the tom's scruff and jumped to the ground, landing softly on all four. Her fur fell flat and she was not spitting rage anymore.

"Oh, you're such a letdown", she purred, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement.

The ginger tom let out a mrrow of laughter, his fur now flat also, and flicked his tail before sitting down. He licked both of his shoulders a few times to clean the blood, which had stopped pouring as intensively as earlier.

"You've improved a lot", he meowed after a while, "I'm very proud of you."

Duskwatcher felt hotter under her fur, delighted by the praise. Not so long ago, she was as good a fighter as kit, and she was very happy with her own progress. It was a great achievement for her, to defeat her powerful mentor despite her small size, even if it had been just training.

"Thanks", she meowed with sincerity.

The tom put his ginger tail over Duskwatcher's mouth.

"We have stayed here long enough. Let us go back to the camp, these wounds you gave me still sting a little!", he meowed, making a face, "Better not risk an infection."

The dark tabby let out a small gasp, worried for him, but did not say a word. The ginger tom flicked his tail once more and jerked his head to the bushes before dashing as best as he could in that direction and Duskwatcher hurried after him.


	3. Badgerpaw of the Windclan

One fateful stormy leaf-fall night, a queen gave birth for the first time. She named one of her tom kits Badgerkit, for he had black and white fur like a badger. Despite her inexperience, the litter was huge, and she did not produce enough milk for all the kits. With leaf-bare imminent, it was even harder to keep all of her kits well fed, and without being able to do anything she understood with bitterness that the strongest of her litter would compete with the others for milk.

Of the initial five kits, only three survived: two plump and strong, the other scrawny and shaky. Leafbare was a nightmare for the queen. While the strongest kits were able to fend themselves against the cold, Badgerkit needed to stay by his mother so he would not freeze.

The scrawny black and white tom did not get away from his mother often, and when he did he was harassed by the other kits and motif of cruel laughter, even by his own siblings. Missing the joy of being a kit and due to his weaker frame, he grew to become a nervous, insecure and overly pessimistic, a shadow of negative traits that covered the rest of the personality he had to offer.

As leaf-bare became fainter and more bearable, the day for Badgerkit to be named an apprentice had come. He had his ceremeony along with his littermates, and received his apprentice named Badgerpaw.

As an apprentice, he had a simple wish: to aid his Clan the best he could while not being an hassle like he had been to his mother.


	4. Red of the Bloodclan

Born to a kittypet mother, Red had a pretty uneventful start of life - after all, he was a Maine Coon, bred by two-legs to make profit. They treated their cats with utmost care, and even a hint of love, and thus the tom and his four siblings were raised properly for a few weeks.

When the kittens were still small, tragedy struck the household. A clumsy maid hired only a few days prior to the incident neglected her cooking, and her punishment were flames. Fire engulfed the house, and in the middle of the commotion the kittens tried their best to escape along with their mother, however, not all managed to do so.

One of them was Red, who ran away like a madkitten and ultimately got lost in the streets. Fate played its last trump. A passerby cat from BloodClan, who had come to harass a kittypet or two, noticed the baby Maine Coon. The BloodClanner knew a cat from such a breed would grow to a champion size and did not waste the opportunity. Grabbing the kitten by his scruff, the BloodClanner took Red with him into the forest.

There, at the BloodClan camp, he was given the name "Red" by the one who brought him and left to be nursed by a Queen who had kits about his age. The queen was already having trouble feeding them all, so some of her kits died. Red was not among them. The powerful kit competed with moderate success against his littermates and always had a large share of the milk.

Red grew, and soon he was old enough to be interested in playing with other kits. His favourite game was "The Clan Leader Says", in which kits would obey to a given kit and perform trivial orders. The one who would accomplish a set number of tasks successfully would become the next "Clan Leader". Or so were the rules intended to be, for Red was always the Leader and those who would oppose him, or refuse to play, would be bullied by the stronger kit.

A few moons after, Red was named an apprentice to the warrior Purplegaze, a jet black nasty tom with eyes which were in accordance with his name. Purplegaze was merciless in his training. They would fight for hours almost daily, and the mock plays with claws retracted were dropped nearly immediately - the mentor preferred "the real deal".

Unfortunately, Purplegaze was often dominated by a peculiar lust for blood that would consume his senses. When that happened, Red had to run away back to the camp and hope for the best. BloodClan was not very comprehensive, but even there a mentor beating his apprentice to death was frowned upon...at least when that happened in public. Those were pitiful times for Red.

During one of their training sessions, Purplegaze was consumed by his usual bloodlust and shredded Red's muzzle with his impressive claws, leaving it pouring blood abundantly. As per usual, the Maine Coon ran away, although he had a goal in mind that one time: the medicine den. He was treated by the medicine cat and, when asked about the wound, he lied, telling that the culprit had been a cat from another Clan, and giving a very generic and basic description of the imaginary cat. Red stayed in the den for a few days, but the ugly scar on his muzzle remained. To cheer him up, the medicine cat told Red that was a sign he was intended to live for battle. Little did he know that Red would take the advice too seriously.

Consumed no longer by fear but by hatred of his mentor, Red started harassing and fighting other cats from his Clan to attempt to get stronger and have his revenge. For a moon, he still showed himself to be weak and submissive to his mentor. Secretly, he honed his skills and his grudge day by day.

Red, who had been growing larger and larger still, was also becoming stronger and stronger still. He lacked skills, but so did Purplegaze. That was why Red, fuelled by rage, managed to severally wound Purplegaze all over his body, even blinding him in one eye. The mentor hissed a promise, that he would get the Maine Coon to be exiled.

Purplegaze tried and failed. Instead, Red was named a Warrior that same night, being commended for his strength and bravery, his act considered the equivalent of killing an enemy cat – his mentor was not very popular, after all. Purplegaze, impaired by the wounds and crushed by fate, retired and became an elder.

After a calm night of vigil, Red began a fruitful career as a Warrior. He was a terrible hunter, usually crushing prey and rendering large chunks of them inedible, however, he excelled during patrols. Sometimes, he was even allowed to go on alone. He still was the bully from his kit days, harassing others daily, in search for a fight, but he knew where his place laid and paid some rotten respects to those stronger than him.

A moon passed, and then another and some more did as well. In one stormy Leaf-fall day, Red came across a cat crossing the boundaries of BloodClan. He barely let the coward outsider cat meow; just enough to let him state that he came from ShadowClan to take a peek at their territory...that was sufficient of a cue for Red.

Driven by a twisted sense of justice, Red decided no spy had the right to run away with impunity. They fought for a while right on the spot and, bending the already neglected Warrior Code, Red delivered a fatal bite on the neck of his foe until the body became limp. After the red gaze vanished from his sight, Red realize that maybe, just maybe, he had committed a mistake. It was not that it was against BloodClan's rules, but, it felt wrong, somehow...

The Maine Coon guiltily dragged the dead ShadowClanner from the proximities of BloodClan's territory and did his best to dig a large hole. There, he buried the dead cat along with his secret. Nobody came to know about that incident.

Despite it all, Red did not become less agressive. The red gaze he saw that day appeared more and more often, and sometimes it was hard to control, but he managed to keep it as tame as possible.

To this day Red still fights both cats and his new enemy within, trying to feed himself with a satisfaction that never stays.


End file.
